


A Question of Propriety

by telperion_15



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Angst, Community: smallfandomfest, Established Relationship, Forbidden, M/M, Napoleonic Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While staying in town, Laurence receives an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Question of Propriety

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: possibly 'Black Powder War'
> 
> Written for the smallfandomfest prompt 'Laurence/Granby, a question of propriety'. Set during an unspecified and most likely canon-uncompliant period at Dover.

A sharp rap at the door startled Laurence, the nib of his pen catching on the paper and leaving a fine spray of ink across the last few lines of the letter he had been writing to his mother.

He frowned for a moment as he wondered who could be calling on him, and at this late hour too. No one knew he was lodging in town this night apart from his fellow aviators and Temeraire, all of whom were still at the covert, and Jane Roland, who had summoned him for his meeting at headquarters in the morning.

Perhaps it _was_ Jane. Although since their previous ‘association’ had come to an end they had generally restricted their friendship to the covert, her offices, or the occasional walk along the cliffs. She had not visited any rooms of Laurence’s for quite some time.

A second knock brought Laurence to his feet, aware that his thoughts had derailed his manners. He really couldn’t think that it could be anyone other than Jane, perhaps with some information about his morning meeting. An emergency would result in something more than this relatively genteel demand for his attention, and no other reason for a visitor could be brought to mind.

But it wasn’t Jane. It was Granby. A smiling, expectant-looking Granby.

“Good evening, Captain,” said Laurence, unable to stop his eyes from peering past the other man to check the emptiness of the corridor behind him.

“Such formality, Will!” Granby exclaimed, too loudly.

The intimacy brought a stain to Laurence’s cheeks. “Have you been drinking, sir?” he asked sternly, attempting to keep a hold on an exchange that already appeared to be slipping away from him.

Granby shook his head. “I am as sober as a judge, I swear to you.”

“Then what are you doing here, may I ask?”

For the first time Granby’s happy expression faltered a little. “Why, I’ve come to see you, Will,” he said. “I knew you would be here all alone, and I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“That you might like some company. You did, after all, tell me where you would be lodging. I assumed that meant…”

“You assumed too much,” Laurence said, in a quick, low voice. The corridor was still empty, but he could well imagine the straining ears that might be concealed behind all the other closed doors, or even the eyes peering shamelessly through keyholes, anxious to discern the aviators’ latest scandal. “You presumed an invitation that was not extended.”

“So you did not wish to see me this night?” Granby’s own cheeks had spots of colour on them now as his voice turned angry. “You are perfectly content to take your pleasure in the barracks, or on campaign, but _now_ you are worried?”

“For god’s sake, John, lower your voice,” said Laurence hurriedly. “Someone might hear you.”

“And that’s all you care about, is it?”

“There is a question of propriety, yes. If people were to find out…” Laurence continued, somewhat confused in the face of Granby’s anger.

“And if they do? We’re aviators, Laurence, no one cares what we do. They’ve washed their hands of us already!”

“Do you really think so?” Laurence snapped in a furious whisper. “Do you really think if they found out about… _this_ …they’d turn a blind eye? Do you not think they’d welcome the excuse to separate you from Iskierka, or me from Temeraire? Because I tell you now, John, if it came down to a choice, for me it would be an easy one. And you would be the loser.”

Granby gaped at him soundlessly for a moment, and Laurence suddenly felt unbearably tired.

“Goodnight, Captain,” he said, formal again. “I will see you tomorrow at the covert.” He didn’t wait for Granby to leave, but shut the door firmly but gently in his face.

After a moment he heard Granby’s footsteps walking away down the corridor.

*~*~*~*~*

The next afternoon, meetings at headquarters over and done with (and with Admiralty feathers left comparatively unruffled, much to Jane’s relief), Laurence returned to Dover covert, simultaneously looking forward to seeing Temeraire again, and wishing that he could have found an excuse to linger in town a little longer.

“Laurence!” Temeraire cried, the not-quite-concealed relief in his voice betraying that he’d been on the lookout for Laurence’s return, probably since the crack of dawn.

“Temeraire,” Laurence greeted him, willingly submitting himself to being pulled forward by a clawed foot and then buffeted by Temeraire’s nose as he reacquainted himself with his captain.

“Were the meetings very dull, Laurence?” Temeraire asked. “You look tired.”

Laurence summoned up a laugh from somewhere. “They were _extremely_ dull, my dear,” he replied. “But then, they always are.” He decided not to mention that he hadn’t slept well the previous night. Temeraire was a born worrier, and _that_ was sure to worry him.

“But now you are finished for the day?” Temeraire looked anxious that Laurence shouldn’t be disappearing again any time soon.

“Yes,” Laurence told him. He took a breath. “And I shall be all yours just as soon as I speak to Captain Granby. There is a matter I must discuss with him. Have you seen him today?”

“He is with Iskierka,” Temeraire said. “Who has been gloating all day that _her_ captain did not find it necessary to go off and leave her for a _whole night_.”

Temeraire’s voice indicated that his disgust was with the other dragon’s boasting rather than any perceived abandonment by Laurence. Much as he disliked being separated from Laurence, he was aware that it must be so sometimes, and tried not to make too much of a fuss about it. Although, as today, he could never quite hide his gladness at Laurence’s return.

Still, Laurence couldn’t help but frown a little. “Then she is not as observant as she thinks,” he muttered to himself, forgetting that a pair of large dragonish ears were close by.

“Why, what do you mean, Laurence?” Temeraire asked.

“Nothing, nothing, my dear,” Laurence answered hurriedly. “Only…I must speak to Granby. Will you excuse me for a few moments?”

“Of course. But hurry back, won’t you? I have missed you, Laurence.”

“And I you, my dear,” Laurence reassured the dragon. “I shan’t be long.”

He made his way across the covert to Iskierka’s clearing, half-wondering whether Granby would have instructed the Kazilik to fry him to a crisp as soon as he approached.

But all he received when he announced himself was a rather smug look from Iskierka, and a rather flat one from Granby.

“May I speak with you a moment?” Laurence asked, addressing himself to Granby.

For a moment he thought that Granby would refuse him, but then the other captain nodded shortly, and murmured something to Iskierka. The dragon’s expression changed to one of dislike as she surveyed Laurence, but Laurence tried not to let it bother him. Iskierka generally disliked anyone who _wasn’t_ Granby or another member of her crew. Laurence had always rather suspected that Iskierka jealously expected him to demand Granby’s return to Temeraire’s crew at any given moment, as ridiculous as the notion was.

Extricating himself from Iskierka’s coils, Granby walked over to Laurence, nodded again, and then by mutual silent agreement the two men set off together towards the livestock pens, where they could be reasonably sure of conversing without being overheard by every dragon in the covert.

However, once they were there, leaning on the fence of a pen of fat English cattle, Laurence found he didn’t know how to begin. It wasn’t often that he found himself tongue-tied, and as the silence stretched out he found himself floundering even more.

Then Granby gave a short, bitter laugh, although whether it was directed at himself or at Laurence, Laurence couldn’t quite tell.

“I fear you were right, Laurence,” Granby announced, without preamble.

“About what?” Laurence asked cautiously.

“About everything.” Granby looked as if the words pained him.

“Oh.”

“Of course you would choose Temeraire. And of course I would choose Iskierka.” He looked away briefly. “Really, it would be no choice at all.”

“No choice at all,” Laurence agreed in a low voice. Then he took a risk and laid his hand over Granby’s where it rested on the fence. “But John,” he continued, “I _was_ wrong about one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“My choice _would_ always be the same, but it would never be an _easy_ one.”

Now it was Granby’s turn to say “Oh.”

“You do see why we must be careful, John?”

“Of course,” replied Granby. “But it does not mean that I have to like it.”

Laurence didn’t reply to that, but merely squeezed Granby’s hand. “I am sorry, though,” he said. “About last night. I could have been more…tactful.” He smiled a little, ruefully. “But for all I have learned since I joined the Corps, I find myself troubled by ridiculous notions of propriety.”

“They are not ridiculous,” Granby said. He smiled a little too. “You would not be you without them. And besides, they saved us from doing something inadvisable last night. I have already told you you were right about all that.”

“Still, I am sorry,” Laurence repeated.

“Apology accepted.”

“There is less need for propriety here, though, as you so rightly pointed out,” said Laurence. He lowered his voice slightly. “Will you come to me tonight, John? I will not turn you away again.”

Granby gave him a warm look. “Yes, Will. You may look for me later.”

The two men shared another silent moment, albeit a far more comfortable one, before Laurence straightened himself and turned away from the livestock pen.

“Now, I must get back to Temeraire. I promised him I would not be long.”

“Yes, and I suspect Iskierka will start crowing over him again if we are not careful. She will not be able to resist pointing out that he has been abandoned by his captain twice in twenty-four hours.”

Laurence laughed. “Temeraire mentioned that she had been engaging in something of the sort,” he said. “Tell me, how is it that she didn’t notice your own absence last night?”

“She was sound asleep,” Granby replied. “Dead to world when I left, dead to the world when I got back – admittedly rather earlier than I expected.” Then he shook his head as Laurence tried to apologise again. “No, Will, I was not baiting you. All is forgotten, rest assured. Come, let us return, before we end up with two sulking dragons on our hands.”

*~*~*~*~*

Once again, Temeraire spotted him straight away. “Laurence! How did your discussion go?”

Laurence felt sure that every ear in the vicinity had pricked up – Temeraire’s tone was not as confidential as he believed. He exchanged an amused glance with Granby.

“I’d best hurry, before the whole covert starts taking an interest,” he said. Then he hesitated slightly. “I _will_ see you later?”

“Later,” Granby promised reassuringly. “Later, Will.”

A broad smile on his face that he couldn’t quite temper with caution, Laurence made his way over to Temeraire as Granby returned to Iskierka.

“Our discussion went well, I believe,” he said to Temeraire. And then, before the dragon could start asking for details, he laid a hand on Temeraire’s foreleg, and continued, “Now, suppose you tell me what I missed while I was away? Apart from Iskierka’s gloating, that is.”


End file.
